The Hanged Man:  Reset
by patchworkearth
Summary: The first shots are fired in the war for humanity, a catfight breaks out at a fancy party, and ironic justice is served. P3/P4 And then some , SouRis, Mits/Kei, Spoilers, Convolutions


Atlus is the owner-I pay steep rent. "After the End" stories are separate, but interconnected... though, this one might be a little less "separate" than some of the others. You be the judge, you make the call. I write these for my wife, who didn't know who half of these characters were, but was supportive anyway. Thanks to user Emmychao for the second eye and user RyougaZell for spirited argument.

**

* * *

[XII. The Hanged Man] Reset**

_(Everyone into the pool)_

Souji Seta was surrounded by beautiful women.

This was a usual occurrence, and so he didn't seem fazed by it. But then, to the outside observer, there didn't appear to be much that _did_ faze the young, silver-haired husband of pop idol Rise Kujikawa. He had appeared mysteriously, not so very long into Risette's comeback tour, and since then had been a hot topic among gossip hounds and rumor mongers; and yet, standing amidst a group of starlets who were giggling and hanging on his every word, he couldn't possibly look more comfortable.

It was only his wife, passing by with a glass in hand, who heard his whispered plea for help.

"You've got to get me out of here."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Come on! I helped set this up! You've got to let me enjoy these while I'm still able." Rise placed her empty glass on a passing waiter's tray and ignored Souji's incredulous look. Her hand kept reaching to cup her belly, but she forced herself to stop. The news wasn't yet public.

They were at a charity benefit for victims of the Tokyo Lockdown incident. It had been quite the news story—the entire Yamanote line had been the victims of terrorism or... something... (Naoto couldn't trace things high enough up any ladders, and none of their people had been downtown when it happened) and there were a lot of orphaned children and a lot of injured people out of the workforce—to say nothing of the damage to Tokyo's economy from the major downtown area sustaining such damage.

Rise had put a lot of funding into the event, and she was performing a small set on the stage that had been erected at one end of the function hall. Even now, one of her opening acts—a small independent performer who had apparently been trapped inside the Lockdown for that whole hellish week—was wrapping up one of her own songs.

_...Inside of the darkness of the heart  
In the seemingly imitative town  
Although the lie has been seen through,  
I still cling to those affectionate words_

_The world reflects in gray  
It passes fleetingly  
Just feeling despair  
Destroy the distorted mirage  
Delete all of the world to do over again..._

She was good. Rise made a mental note to have her open for her next tour, when she was able to... she stopped herself. No, she wouldn't be touring for a little while, anyway. As it was, Yoshino Harusawa hadn't made much of an impression on her, personally speaking. She certainly wasn't very interested in "Risette." Rise wondered if it was some kind of indie versus pop thing.

But then, what she didn't say to her husband was that a _lot_ of people at the benefit were giving her the cold shoulder, despite everything that she'd poured into putting the whole thing together. She was the pop idol or the tofu girl, and neither of those interested the high-rollers who were pouring money into the charity to look good on camera. It made her think about the parasitic reporters who had made things so much worse in Inaba.

The minute that she'd turned away from her husband, the girls had swarmed him again. Talk about parasites... Rise accepted the world's daintiest sandwich from another passing tray and almost crashed into a supermodel.

"Oh!" Eriko Kirishima nearly spilled her drink.

"Sorry," Rise muttered.

"No big deal," Elly said in English, and winked. "Risette, yeah? I've always wanted to meet you!"

"Oh really?" Rise could not imagine what they would have in common. Elly Kirishima wasn't a Japanese star, she was a _worldwide_ star, and was known for being as intelligent as she was beautiful. When she'd cut her hair short, half of the women that Rise knew in show business had quickly followed suit.

"Oh, absolutely... we _must_ do lunch sometime..." But whatever else Elly might have said was cut off as the assembled guests began to murmur at the entrance of a new guest. Rise had to stand on tip-toes to get the view that came naturally to Elly, whose face had darkened slightly. There was a woman with the most incredible red hair, handing her coat to a waiting attendant and dressed in a gown that was sending women scurrying out of the hall in embarrassment of their own fall behind the trends.

Rise knew the face, even though she'd never met the woman personally. She was the largest financial backer of the charity event—unsurprising, considering the size and wealth of her vaguely-defined charity foundation.

Mitsuru Kirijo had arrived, and then some.

* * *

The worst thing about being a private detective was when the phone didn't ring. Since starting up the "finding people business," Kaoru "Baofu" Saga and Ulala Serizawa had spent far too many days throwing darts, talking trash, drinking in the office, and otherwise failing to meet their rent.

Which wasn't to say that they weren't good at their jobs—while they weren't necessarily the most personable agency in the index, they were second-best in all of Japan, if not worldwide. The problem, of course, was that the _top_-rated agency was essentially down the street from them, and their "Mom and Pop Shop" couldn't quite compete with the Junes Megastore that was the well-connected and respected Shirogane Detective Agency.

Which was what made it all the more absurd when both of their lines started ringing at once.

There was a comedy of errors as Baofu and Ulala argued over who would pick up which line, punctuated with Ulala tossing a coffee mug at Baofu's head, but soon phones went to ears in perfect synchronicity.

They were, both of those calls, messages from the past.

* * *

Rise glanced back at her husband, and found him staring at the newly-arrived knockout. Her jealously flared for just a moment, until she recognized the look in Souji's eyes. The "This person needs help" look. She turned back to Elly to excuse herself, hoping to find out what her husband was thinking, but Elly was already gone... as she'd made a beeline straight for Kirijo, who looked none-too-pleased to see the model's approach.

Rise ducked between two tycoons so that she could get close enough to eavesdrop (which was, of course, what the whole room was doing). Elly was going through the social graces, giving Kirijo one of those rich people kisses-to-the-air-by-the-cheek that was oh-so-fake, and winked at Mitsuru in a way that made Rise uncomfortable on behalf of everyone in the room.

"Darling! We meet in person at last!"

Kiriko had a glare that could cause earthquakes. "Yes, is was... 'Ellen,' wasn't it?"

Elly sniffed. "Oh, my friends call me Elly, but please, it's 'Eriko,' of course." Somebody in the crowd sneezed. "You know, my make-up girl, she _swears_ that we could be twins."

The room temperature kept dropping. Rise had the urge to tell Souji that Agi skills would be effective. Mitsuru smiled, just barely. "You think? I don't see it, myself."

Elly placed a hand on Mitsuru's shoulder and laughed. "You _are_ a card, Mitsuru, darling." Those in the front row could see Elly's fingers tighten, ever so slightly. "So... are you treating my Nate all right?"

This actually prompted a raised eyebrow in the other woman. "Nate?"

"Oh, that's a name that we used to tease Kei with, back in high school. You know how kids are." She smiled. "You know, I heard a _rumor_ that you and I share a common love..." The smile widened. "We simply _must_ fence sometime. I just might surprise you."

"As delightful as that sounds, I have _such_ a busy schedule these days..." Mitsuru smiled thinly and removed Elly's hand from her shoulder. "I'm sure that you understand."

"Oh, I've no doubt of that at all." Elly bowed, but it was such a quick and high bow that it was almost like a slap to Kirijo's cheek. "Don't work _too_ hard, Mitsuru."

"Of course not... this _is_ a party, isn't it?" Mitsuru tossed her a wave. "Now, where _is_ the organizer? I must pay my compliments. This is quite a _reception_."

Rise knew that Kirijo meant _her_, and she backed her way through the crowd so that when Kirijo found her, she wouldn't be too close to the dust-up. She found that Souji had met her halfway, and his hand found the small of her back. She exhaled, and only then realized that she was holding her breath.

"All things being equal," her husband whispered, "I'd rather be golfing right now."

"Golfing" was their private codeword for the time that they'd spent in the television world. Rise found that she could hardly disagree.

"I take back everything I said earlier." Rise backed a step into him. "Get us out of here."

"Uh-uh. You still have a set to perform." Souji looked back towards the approaching Kirijo, who was halted every two steps in order to pay respects to some investor or business associate. "Besides, Naoto would murder us if we didn't take this opportunity to feel out her Great White Whale."

"You're terrifying when you're fearless." She took his hand. "Also adorable. But this one looks like she could cast a Thousand Curses." Which was something that they did _not_ joke about, and so Souji gave her a worried glance, but she just shrugged at him helplessly.

"Hey. Come on now." He gave her an evil smile. "Don't disappoint Naoto, or she'll tell our secret to Kanji. And then _everyone_ will know. And Teddie will be over every day..."

"Okay! Okay!" She held up her hands in surrender, and that was when Mitsuru found them.

* * *

Baofu took his feet off of his desk and slowly sat up straighter as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. "Kuzunoha, huh? Been a while since somebody called in that marker."

Ulala was casting him glances even as she tried to focus on her own phone call, from a surprising source. "Maya, come on, calm down... I can't... We haven't even spoken since..."

Baofu was scratching something out on a notepad. "You can't be serious. Why the Hell would we want to... Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, that's... No, I ain't saying that at all. Well, we're trying to be on the... Yeah, I hear you."

"America?" Ulala scratched at her head. "You want us to... oh, it's here, okay, but why... no, I haven't... No! Come on, don't be like that, I'm just..."

Baofu spun a coin on his desk with two fingers. "Well, I admit the challenge of it's a little... No. I'm not... Look, I think you've got me all wrong, here, let's start over..."

"Do you want us to call... Of course you don't. That's not what I said! No, I get it, this is big, but why can't we come there, then, and help you... Uh...huh. Well, I... Okay! Yes, I _am_ 'thinking positive!' I just want to... Right. Do you really think that... Huh."

"It's going to cost you pretty big." Baofu flicked the coin, and it buried itself deeply in the wall opposite of his desk. "Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, that doesn't pay the rent. Ain't what I said. Oh, for... Fine. Yeah, I get it. I'll expect you to contact me. Right, whatever," He hung up.

"Take care of yourself, girl, seriously... No, I... Yeah, you too." Ulala placed the receiver gently on the cradle, and then smashed the phone with her fist.

Baofu looked at her for a long moment. "You're payin' to replace that."

Ulala gave him a dry look. "Morimoto Sanitarium."

Baofu's eyebrows shot above his dark glasses. "You too?"

"Wait, what?"

* * *

She first met him when he was apologizing.

She came to her office early one morning to find that Kei Nanjou was already there, motorcycle helmet clutched under his arm. Before she could call security, he gave her a long, low bow, and from his aristocratic bearing, she knew that the bow was as close as a man like him would come to groveling at her feet. It bought him sixty seconds.

That had been all he needed.

Mitsuru was, she had to admit, a little shaken at the sudden appearance of Eriko Kirishima. She hadn't expected to be in competition with anyone—if, indeed, that was what was happening here. She had never dated before, had never been properly courted by someone who had not been chosen for her. Until now, her inexperience had not been a liability for her, but "Elly" had clearly struck home with her remarks—the reactions of the various well-wishers and hanger-ons let her know that her poker face was slipping. That was why she'd chosen to perform the action that she'd least looked forward to this evening _first—_cornering Souji Seta and his wife regarding the events in Inaba years earlier.

Even as she suggested that they adjourn to the balcony, she was thinking instead of Kei. The Kirijo Group had split with the Nanjo Group after her father had learned to what extent her grandfather had been using their research for nefarious ends. When the explosion occurred however—the one that had claimed the lives of her grandfather, Yukari Takeba's father, and was a part of the incident that also killed Minato Arisato's parents, when Aigis had sealed Ryoji Mochizuki away within him—much of what was left of the Nanjo Group folded in on itself, and her father began making overtures to buy up what was left, in hopes of getting access to their files and technology. In the process, Mitsuru had been arranged to marry a vile and disrespectful young man that Minato helped free her from.

What she hadn't known, what her father Takeharu Kirijo had not told her before he died at Shuji Ikutski's hands, was that Kei Nanjou was also attempting to regain control of his former company. He and his fellow alumni at St. Hermelin High School had been some of the first recorded Persona users, and much of her grandfather's research had been based on an earlier incident in which they were involved. It was that incident for which Kei Nanjou had been trying to atone. It was a sentiment that Mitsuru understood very well.

When her father died, Kei was able to buy up all of Nanjou's stocks in the ensuing chaos. For this opportunism, he had apologized. But he also apologized on behalf of his corporation for her arranged marriage, something that he had taken no part in. This generosity had touched her. And while his wealth and power had not impressed her (she was his every match in that department), what _had_ impressed her, she was a little ashamed to admit, was his motorcycle.

They had taken trips out to the country villages where her father had occasionally brought her on summer trips, and they'd raced together. She'd been amazed to discover that there was somebody who could truly act as her equal. Not even Minato, for all of his many positive qualities, could match her in areas that Kei could (and she hadn't a chance, anyway—not even she was so naïve as to miss the way that he looked at Takeba, her closest friend). When she and Kei grew closer, she was also surprised to discover that sometimes a relationship could be _easy_ in ways that had never been explained to her. She felt that her father would have been impressed with Kei Nanjou, as well. Perhaps never more so than when he admitted to her that while he would indeed be interested in progressing their relationship, he needed first to establish his desires regarding their combined front against possible resurgences in Persona incidents—so that _those_ overtures would not be confused with other ones.

And so there she was at a charity benefit, acting on both of their behalves. The night was cold; Rise immediately rubbed at her arms when the three of them stepped out on the balcony. But Mitsuru had not felt cold much at all, since her first trip into the lobby of Tartarus, when her Persona awakened.

Souji Seta crossed his arms and looked at her with an expression that she remembered. It was Minato's blank-faced stare, taking in more than she ever could.

"Well," he said, "You have us at your mercy."

* * *

Taro Namatame lay still, and awaited death.

He should be so lucky, he thought; he'd avoided it so many times by now that it was a sick cosmic joke. At first, it was little things, like just barely avoiding getting hit by a car when he was a child. His former employer the councilman running late at the Diet building, and their missing a flight that crashed. In retrospect, these coincidences (_were_ they?) couldn't help but strengthen his delusion that he'd been chosen as a savior, a delusion that no amount of regret would wipe away.

He'd almost killed himself, when Mayumi left him. He'd been in the drunken stupor to end them all, that night, and he nearly opened up his wrists in the bathtub, to save everyone the hassle. What had stopped him was the rumor about the television coming true a second time. He saw the girl, Saki Konishi, and he thought that he could rescue her, make up for everything that had happened. Cheating on his wife, Mayumi's death... he found a strength inside him that he hadn't known was there. When he'd called the police, the officer on the other end of the line had all but told him to go through with it; what was there to stop him?

And then he'd taken his own trip inside the television, the struggling Nanako Dojima in his arms. He should have died then, too. Ripped limb from limb by the monsters. But he'd found he had power, there. First strength, and then power. It was no wonder that Namatame thought that destiny had laid the road out for him. And he should have died when the kids came for him, with their own powers. The doubt that they'd laid in his heart.

He tried to throw himself out the window, when Nanako's father had come to his door. But he was prevented from doing so, by the same kids; the same kids who then argued over whether to throw him back inside the television, to what would surely be a more fatal trip than his last. But if there was a God, He wanted Taro Namatame to suffer, and the decision was made to let him live.

But all of those paled in comparison to when the other detective came, the one he knew from that fated phone call. That was surely when he should have died. Detective Adachi's face had looked worse than any Shadow inside the television, a horrible smile as he lifted the pillow to put it over Namatame's face. Taro didn't struggle. He figured it was only fair. But a nurse came to the door, and so Adachi had signed his transfer papers.

Namatame didn't argue at his hearing. He told the complete truth. But the statements about other realities and monsters within the television left the court convinced that he was mad. And he probably was. They sentenced him to Morimoto Sanitarium, and locked him away in a white room. This one didn't have a large-screen TV. It didn't have anything but a hospital bed and equal visits from doctors and security.

And so he lay there, day after day, for years, waiting for death to finally come for him. Ever scared that in the end, he might live forever. His life and soul were already forfeit; it would only be right for him to suffer eternally.

And perhaps he was right, and perhaps he was wrong, but something very different happened instead.

There was a sound like breaking glass, and then the unmistakable thumps and slams of violence down the hall. At first, Namatame stayed in his bed; it was a psychiatric hospital, after all, and sometimes patients got out of control. But the scuffle was too big, too loud, to be just one or two unruly men. And so he slowly climbed up to his knees, looking out the window in his door. He saw one of the guards run past, only to drop suddenly as though he'd been shot. He got up quickly, stumbling in his paper slippers, and pressed up to the door. His breath began to fog up the window even as he saw a second shot embed itself in the wall opposite him. He squinted, and saw what wasn't a bullet at all, but a bottle cap, jammed into the wall hard enough to leave long, splintery cracks.

And then the door was forced open, and he was falling backwards. Before he landed, he felt a burly arm wrap around his midsection and a second pair of hands was forcing a thick bag around his head and shoulders. As everything went dark, he had the sense of mind to wonder in awe that there _was_, in fact, a far more appropriate and ironic punishment available to him for his sins.

* * *

The three Persona-users faced off on the balcony as the party continued inside.

"I suppose that I should start by confirming what we both know." Mitsuru flicked a lock of hair out of her face. "Which is to say, what really happened in the town of Inaba at the time of the Hanged Man Killings."

Souji Seta was again surrounded by beautiful women. This time, one of them was his wife; it was the other one that made him want to escape. He saw two dialogue choices laid before him—pleading ignorance and fessing up—which were both going to lead to the same result. He wasn't really thinking about either of them: oddly, he was thinking about Yosuke Hanamura.

A long time ago, Igor had promised him that the bonds that he'd forged would remain forever—bonds that "could not be broken." And yet, in the time since the battle with Izanami, things had fallen into, let's say, serious disrepair. Souji's marriage was blissfully happy, it was true, and his extended family in Inaba were as close to him, and to each other, as they'd ever been. But the further afield he went, the more everyone had grown apart.

It had happened, some part of him knew, when he'd decided to marry Rise. Until then, even with the physical distance between some of them, everything had held in the same loose balance that it always had. But once he'd acted on the desires of his heart, people had begun making choices. Some, like Kanji and Naoto, were both obvious and safe. Others were not so much at all. And Souji thought about Yosuke, and felt very, very guilty for something that he knew wasn't really his own fault at all.

It didn't make sense, that things would be so stable in high school, of all places. There was a period during that time, Souji knew, when he was all but toying with the affections of many girls. He had been young, and stressed to the point of desperation, and feeling like so much offal, cast away by parents too busy to attend to their own son. But through all of that, everyone smiled, took it in stride, and the social links that he'd formed kept moving forward a step at a time. Maybe it had been the drive to catch the killer that had held them together, and without that as a unifying force... sometimes Souji thought of Margaret, who had told him of another boy, a boy that her sister had loved, whose fate had ended very differently, and he almost envied that boy.

And now the last thing to fall apart, the secrecy that they'd kept, shattering to pieces in the hands of this woman, a woman that he knew had something weighing upon her even as she leaned on them, and on Naoto. He opened his mouth to speak. It didn't matter what he was going to say, anyway.

Kirijo's phone rang.

She held up one finger, turned away, and looked at the caller ID. "One moment." She put the phone to her head, smiling slightly. "I didn't think you'd call me." Her warm voice, combined with the spectacle earlier, left few doubts as to who must be on the other end of the line. But then her face fell. "What?"

Rise edged up to Souji, and he put his arm around her. Something was very wrong.

"What do you mean, you've _lost_ him? He's..." Her hair fell back over one eye. "I'm with Subject 4A right now, actually. Yes, like we'd discussed. This is absurd, Kei, 4B wouldn't escape on his... _taken_?" Her confusion was making _everyone_ edgy. Rise's grabbed onto Souji's hand. "You're telling me that someone actively tried to..." She looked up into the night sky. "Is 4C secure? Well, _figure it out_, Kei, you know he's the most dangerous... Don't _snap at me_!" Her eyes could raze whole cities. "We'll talk about this later, I have... Yes, exactly. Report to me as _soon_ as you... I know. I know." She hung up, and looked at the couple once again.

Souji was breathing heavily. "Which one is which?"

She looked uncertain. "I'm not sure that..."

"Which one is _which_, Kirijo?" Souji grabbed the rail of the balcony with his free hand. "Which one was taken?"

* * *

It took time to get the clearance to visit him at the prison. He was an embarrassment to the police force, after all, and so they'd stuck him in a hole so deep that only a select few could even find him in the records. It took the clout that their corporations had with the government to make a "drop-in visit" of the sort that they were proposing.

And so by the time that Kei had gotten people down there, it was too late.

The Nanjou Group representatives were still in the waiting room when the guard went to open his cell. There was a burnt out fluorescent in that hall, and so at first the guard could not see through the shadows of the cell. It was only when the door slid open and the guard stepped inside that the body of Tohru Adachi was found, apparently having hung himself with his own bedsheets.

* * *

Karukozaka High School, late at night. Baofu slammed the car door and looked around. The moon was lost behind a cloud and the stars were nowhere to be seen, but Baofu did not remove his dark glasses. Ulala cast one last uneasy glance at the large sack in the back of the car and got out herself.

"I don't like this." The parking lot was empty. If they were supposed to meet their contact here, it didn't look like they'd arrived yet. "It's starting to smell real funny."

"I think that was the guy." Baofu inclined his head towards the car. "I think he wet himself."

"Don't be _you_, just for a minute here." Ulala flexed her fingers, and then curled them into fists. "Maya said that we'd pass him on and be home clear. So where's the mystery girl acting on her behalf?"

"Damned Kuzunoha bullshit. Again." Baofu flipped a coin into the air and caught it. "That was supposed to be a _stealth_ mission, you know."

"You're one to talk." She shook her head. "That went south real fast. This whole thing's starting to feel like a set-up." But it couldn't have been anyone but Maya on the other end of that phone call. Ulala threw a few punches into the air. "Do you think-"

Baofu held up a hand to silence her. There was a figure approaching from the shadows, half-hidden by a thick tree at the edge of the school grounds. A few steps further, and it was clearly a girl not that much younger than themselves. She held up a hand, herself, and looked around.

"Are you alone?" She cast one last glance behind her and then stepped into the view cast by the car's headlights.

Baofu frowned. "Wait. I know you."

"We both do." Ulala frowned.

Tamaki Uchida held a hand before her face to block out the light. "We can't stay here. You were probably followed." The Devil Summoner craned her neck to look into the car. "You have him?"

"Not until we get some damned answers." Baofu took a step forward, but Ulala grabbed his sleeve.

"You've helped us before. Right? Sometimes my memory goes a little fuzzy about those days, but you were one of them. Why did we have to go back to _that place_ and take this guy?"

"It's not safe for him." She shook her head. "Look, I'll explain on the way. We have to move. They've already killed my husband."

"Who?" Ulala held out her arms. "And who said we were going anywhere with you? That wasn't part of the deal!"

Tamaki didn't answer. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but only blood came out. As she fell to the ground, Baofu and Ulala naturally moved to put their backs together, but there wasn't so much as a sound.

"Get in the car and be ready to split." Baofu hissed. Then they moved, Ulala jumping in through the car window and Baofu grabbing up Tamaki's body. She spun the car around him and flung the door open so that he could dive in with the corpse, and the car took off.

As they sped down the street, Baofu searched Tamaki's body for any sign of a wound, but there was none. All he found was a folded sheet of paper tucked into her sweater, bearing instructions.

Tamaki Uchida, the first Persona-user, was dead. She had been a Devil Summoner, a Detective, a student, a wife, a friend. She had been the place where it had all began.

Somewhere, somewhen, somehow, a familiar face watched the two sleuths escape with their kidnapping victim and the corpse that they had inherited, and smiled. The first two shots had been fired. War had been declared. Humanity's time was now marked in weeks.

* * *

Mitsuru looked at the two other people on the balcony and sighed.

_Takeharu Kirijo turned and stared down the Ergo Division Scientist, cradling his daughter in his arms. "Why are you so happy about it! Now... Mitsuru can never escape from the destiny of atonement... She'll spend her life bound to our cursed legacy, when she should be finding her own way. What's so bright about that...?"  
_

_Mitsuru weakly reached up and touched her father's face. "Don't worry, Father... I chose this for myself... I'll protect you... Father..."_

She had vowed not to make the same mistakes. That she wouldn't let anyone else get hurt, the way that she and her friends had been hurt. That nobody else would be lost, the way that Minato and Shinjiro, and her father and Takeba's, had all been lost. That she would complete her father's vow to use the Kirijo Group's assets to make the world a better place, to atone for what it had done.

In the end, she knew, she hadn't done a very good job of it. They'd staunched the bleeding quickly in Antarctica, and they'd been able to supply aid in France, and Africa. But the Tokyo Lockdown had been the clearest sign. She couldn't do it. Not enough, never enough. And now the worst was happening—somebody, or something, that knew the identities of Persona-users was making their move. A part of her wanted to blame Ken Amada, or Naoto Shirogane, but she blamed herself.

She pressed a stud on her bracelet. "Code Black. Be careful with the secondary asset, she's fragile."

"What-" But Souji had barely gotten it out, when the operatives appeared from everywhere. The people at the gala, save one, barely had time to notice before the two Persona-users were subdued and spirited away. Without a Persona, without a weapon, not even Souji could fight them all off, not without endangering Rise. And so the two of them were scooped up like party favors.

The one who did notice, though, tried to push her way through the crowd to get to the balcony. Mitsuru saw her and flicked her hair. She raised her hand in the motion of a fencing salute, and followed her operatives down the rope from the balcony. By the time Elly had reached them, the rope had been released and there was no sign that any of the three people had been there.

The gossip columns would have a field day with Rise missing her set, but she was a temperamental pop idol. The only person who'd expect an immediate check-in would be Inoue-san, her manager, and he was already being attended to. Elly could take it up with Kei. Mitsuru had bigger things to worry about.

If there was going to be a war, she'd assure that humanity won it.


End file.
